


Similar Narratives

by Half_PintGladiator



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:24:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_PintGladiator/pseuds/Half_PintGladiator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel's death affected her more than she thought it would. Maya had found a kindred spirit and lost her in one fell swoop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Similar Narratives

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing with the dark fic streak.

Maya could only stare at the bindings that held Angel. Her jaw creaked from the pressure and tension she held in it. The guilt, the pain doubled as Angel’s last breath slipped from her. That could have been her in some capacity. She held in the anger, instead forcing her focus back on her mission. 

Solitude, she needed solitude. She needed peace of mind. The rage boiled in her gut like superheated acid. As soon as she could break away from the group, she fast traveled to the only place she knew she would be alone: the Caustic Caverns. Her footfalls were automatic, barely guided. She pushed all of her power, all of her hurt into one place. A primal scream escaped her as she drove her tattooed fist into the weathered Dahl sign lying along the pit’s entrance. Her tattoos burned the deepest blue they ever had glowed. Her breath came in ragged heaves. 

Sorrow followed closely on the heels of her fury. Maya sunk to the ground, cradling her head in her hands. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried. Had she ever cried? She felt stupid kneeling there in the dirt crying over another hopeless cause. Crying over a girl that reminded her all too much of herself. How that brief flame of rebellion had been snuffed out.

Angel had been a glorified power source. A battery. A tool. Maya, herself… A warrior. A weapon. A means of manipulating the masses to provide lavish housing for assholes like Brother Sophis. He who condemned materialism in his speeches to her, yet who never went wanting. Even Angel’s stark quarters reminded her of the Abbey. The parallels hurt nearly as much as watching an innocent life snuff out before her eyes.

Maybe she was just a tool. Just as bad as… The anger returned. Sparked anew, burning, burning until she thought she would combust. Maya forced herself to breathe. Take slow breaths, release the feelings. Let go. Her feelings were only clouding her judgment. There was another siren in need, and she would not allow Lilith to share the same fate as Angel.


End file.
